Have a Happy Sixth Year!
by DangerousLiving
Summary: During his Astronomy tutor club, Harry meets a very unusual Slytherin: Misha. They become good friends; both learning important lessons along the way. A tale about the year following the most treasured "sixteenth birthday"; consisting of love, friendship, and the need to cherish time as much as possible; especially in their case.
1. An Uneventful Trip to Hogwarts

**I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does**

* * *

**An Uneventful Trip to Hogwarts**

* * *

"Who do you reckon is going to be the new professor?"

"Another dolt picked up from the street, probably. Remember the last ones? This is Dumbledore we're talking about, after all."

Misha mentally rolled her eyes and gazed out of her window, wiping the condensation off first with the hem of her sleeve. The landscape was so clouded with trees to an extent that she could only see the green of the leaves and the blue of the sky. She kept watching with strange interest, waiting for something unusual to appear in the scenery of endless green.

A snide voice called her name all of a sudden, shocking her out of her reverie. She looked up at the scorning faces of her fellow Housemates, Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria. "What are you gaping at?" The latter asked with slight confusion. "There's nothing but boredom out there."

"I can't think of anything else to do," Misha answered, a little ticked off. "I left my brains home, sadly."

Astoria snorted, shaking her head in the process. "Good luck with your O.W.L.'s, then."

"I don't get why everyone's so nervous about it. They're just exams." Daphne said, as calm as always.

"You're right," Misha replied sarcastically. "And jeans are just pants. You see, those exams kind of decide your future."

"I don't see any worry in that."

"You both make me scared of mine," Astoria remarked, a little fearful. Misha looked at the heart-shaped face of the littlest Greengrass, already towering over her sister, who was elder by two years. Just like Misha and Daphne, she too had been sorted in the Slytherin House. Where her sibling was cool and sometimes a bit stand-offish, she was out-going and very passionate. Though both were quite different; their love for each other wasn't any less.

"How was your summer by the way?" She asked Misha, who had resumed her 'I'm-bored'-stance.

The girl in question merely shrugged. "Partly lazy, partly hectic. Connect the dots."

"Your dad again?" Daphne asked, eyes twinkling of amusement.

"How'd you guess? He was hell-bent on stuffing the Defence of Dark Arts book in my face. Anyways, how were yours?"

"We went to Curaçao," Astoria responded proudly. "And it was definitely one of the best vacations ever. Right, Daphne?"

Daphne nodded vigorously. "It was amazing, Misha. We went scuba diving most of the time, snorkeled at Blue Bay. The land there is beautiful really."

"Sounds cool," Misha answered curtly, a little jealous after hearing their obviously great holiday. She herself had been spending the entire month July in her bed and on the couch, busying herself with a marathon of Boy Meets World on television. Her father persuaded her to revise her lessons in August though, ruining the last remaining month of vacation ultimately.  
After the cart came with the candy and they ordered some pastries, Daphne insisted that they should change in their school robes. Misha took a last glance outside before pulling the neccesary clothing out of her trunk and tying her loose shoelaces of her sneakers.

After half an hour (accompanied with some bruhaha on the aisle involving some first-years) the Hogwarts Express came slowly to a halt. Misha glanced at the ginormous castle, which looked as enticing as ever and followed her friends out of the train. Misha nearly lost herself in the crowd of students, but quickly found her way out when professor Grubbly-Plank ordered the pupils to organise.  
Just like the others who were twelve or above, she trudged to the nearest carriage and made herself comfortable. A few seconds later Astoria and Daphne appeared and seated themselves beside her. "It's quite busy out there."

"I know ..."

Daphne suddenly went silent. Astoria looked confused and Misha followed her gaze to four students who walked alongside their carriage.  
She had seen them before but couldn't recall their names very well. Obviously she knew one of them was Harry Potter by looking at the famous scar, and another was Hermione Granger. The others were familiar but faint. There was a ginger, presumably a Weasley. The only blond one in the group was carrying a strange, cactus-like plant.

Without giving them a second glance, she turned to her friends who were looking suspiciously at Harry's back.

Now it was her turn to look confused.

"What's the problem?" She asked curiously. Astoria rolled her eyes before looking at her with cynism.

"Have you lived under a stone the whole summer? Didn't you read the newspapers? The Daily Prophet?"

Oh, now she remembered it. It was true; Harry Potter had been on almost every newspaper for the past two months that it was hard to not notice.

"Do you think he's a liar like they're claiming?" Daphne asked her curiously.

Misha shrugged. "Don't know really. But would Dumbledore lie to us about something that serious?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't," she replied stubbornly. "How serious it may be. It just sounds so strange. You-Know-Who comes back, Cedric Diggory dead, just like that? There's something off about it. Bet Potter's just seeking attention."

"The press never really lets him breath in peace," Astoria argued. "That's not worth the attention."

"Let him sort out his issues, who are we to talk about it? How less we know, how less we have the right." Misha said, a little irritated. "Besides, it's just hogswash anyway. Soon, this all will die down eventually."

* * *

But not neccesarily on that day. Everywhere where she went, Misha heard at least one person talking about it. Of course she turned a deaf ear, but after some time the topic was really annoying her. "Don't they have something else to talk about?" Misha said, ticked off. They stood in front of the Great Hall, waiting for the door to open.

"As you said, it'll die down eventually."

A unknown third-year she only knew by face almost pushed her down when the gates opened as well as entrance to the Great Hall. In neat groups, the students sat down at their respective tables, which was yet to be full with food. Misha took a seat next to Tracey Davis as Astoria and Daphne sat opposite of her. She focused her gaze at the staff table, trying to find a new face between all the teachers.  
It was void of one though. Rubeus Hagrid, usual professor of Care of Magical Creatures, was absent.

Professor Grubbly-Plank was fulfilling that seat again.  
Confused to boot, Misha shared her wonder with Astoria and Daphne.  
"I bet he's sacked," Daphne said mysteriously as she let a evil grin appear on her face. "About time."

"He wasn't that bad," Misha defended one of her favourite teachers. Daphne rolled her eyes and Astoria gave her a warning look. "Don't start now."

A few seats away she heard a sharp voice that immediately broke through the cozy atmosphere. "Glad that big oaf finally found his place!" None other than Malfoy rejoiced.

"The school year hasn't started properly yet and the brat's talking already," Tracey remarked spitefully. Approving murmurs around her were heard. Not in defense of Hagrid though, but rather plain dislike against the blonde.  
Contrary to popular belief, not all Slytherins were admirers of Draco Malfoy. In fact, many were annoyed by him and his cronies.

"Idiots like him are the ones who give Slytherin a bad name," Daphne agreed. Misha rolled her eyes. They weren't the only ones to blame. Their mentality didn't really help either in the long run.

Sometimes she felt left out for having a different opinion than the others. She didn't support blood purity; never made degrading jokes and defended her mother to boot. Too often, she was subject to ridicule from conservative pure-bloods because of her non-magical ancestry. Even though they never really told her or openly expressed it; Misha knew that her only friends, Daphne and Astoria, weren't exactly prejudice-free either and that hurt her. She could see it whenever they talked about Muggle-related topics.

But he had been friends with them since first year, and didn't care about what they thought in their mind as long as it stayed there.

The Sorting ceremony was about to begin after what felt like ages. Professor McGonagall placed the magic hat on the stool and the rip opened, which functioned as a mouth, ready to sing another song.

_In times of old, when I was new,_  
_And Hogwarts barely started,_  
_The founders of our noble school_  
_Thought never to be parted._

_United by a common goal,_  
_They had the selfsame yearning_  
_To make the world's best magic school_  
_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach"_  
_The four good friends decided._  
_And never did they dream that they_  
_Might some day be divided._

_For were there such friends anywhere_  
_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_  
_Unless it was the second pair_  
_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_  
_How could such friendships fail?_  
_Why, I was there, so I can tell_  
_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_  
_Whose ancestry's purest."_  
_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_  
_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_  
_With brave deeds to their name."_  
_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot_  
_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_  
_When first they came to light._  
_For each of the four founders had_  
_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_  
_For instance, Slytherin_  
_Took only pure-blood wizards_  
_Of great cunning just like him._

_And only those of sharpest mind_  
_Were taught by Ravenclaw_  
_While the bravest and the boldest_  
_Went to daring Gryffindor._  
_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest_  
_and taught them all she knew,_  
_Thus, the houses and their founders_  
_Maintained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_  
_for several happy years,_  
_but then discord crept among us_  
_feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four_  
_had once held up our school_  
_now turned upon each other and_  
_divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_  
_must meet an early end._  
_what with dueling and with fighting_  
_and the clash of friend on friend._

_And at last there came a morning_  
_when old Slytherin departed_  
_and though the fighting then died out_  
_he left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_  
_were whittled down to three_  
_have the Houses been united_  
_as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_  
_and you all know the score:_  
_I sort you into Houses_  
_because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further,_  
_listen closely to my song:_  
_though condemned I am to split you_  
_still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_  
_and must quarter every year_  
_still I wonder whether sorting_  
_may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_  
_the warning history shows,_  
_for our Hogwarts is in danger_  
_from external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_  
_or we'll crumble from within_  
_I have told you, I have warned you..._  
_let the Sorting now begin._

The whole crowd began murmuring and whispering with each other, breaking the silence almost instantly. Astoria looked up confused, processing the information.

"I wonder how long it took for him to come up with that," Daphne commented, a little dumbfounded after hearing what was probably the longest song ever from the Sorting Hat.

Misha ignored Daphne, turning to Astoria and saying: "It warned us against external foes. And promoted House unity."

"I'm honestly doubting if Potter's a liar now," Astoria remarked, looking at her sister cynically.

"Dumbledore probably set the Hat up," Daphne shot back immediately.

"Calm down!" Misha interjected between the two sisters. "Let's talk about something else. The Hat feels guilty for dividing us, and it's saying that after so many years."

"I'm glad though," A girl with auburn hair commented, a few seats away from them. "Sitting next to those dolts in Hufflepuff, must be a nightmare. Or those Gryffindors."

The rest of the table including Daphne sniggered at her stupid joke while Astoria kept a straight face.

"Nice to know you're opinion on our conversation," Misha said, scowling. She then turned around and focused on the Sorting, which she partly missed. She nearly didn't hear the loud "SLYTHERIN!" when the Hat landed on the head of a boy. Misha quickly nudged the Greengrasses and gestured with a nod to the first year, who was nearing their table.

"He doesn't seem to care at all what's happening 'round him," Astoria remarked with a frown.

"I remember how you nearly peed your pants there." Daphne let out a snigger.

"Sod off."

Dumbledore's announcement was the same as always, welcoming everyone and wishing them a happy meal. After those magic words came out, the tables filled with tons of food enough to feed a whole army. Misha smiled and quickly dug in. Letting out a moan of enjoyment, she thus established her love for food once more.

The girl beside her, Tracey, was a little more hesitant than the others near her. She was a brunette with a petite frame, known for her glasses which gave her face a strict look. "I'm on a diet," she confessed, when noticing the confusion etched on her Housemates' faces.

"Stop dieting then," Misha said suddenly. "And eat. It's de-licious!" To give her statement more power she grabbed the nearest muffin and stuffed it in her mouth. She then let a goofy smile appear on her face, her cheeks still full. Tracey chuckled lightly and scooped up some food on her plate. Misha gulped the pastry down after chewing it a bit inappropriately, earning disgusted glances from the rest of the Slytherins.

"Don't you have manners, Morwenna?" Draco Malfoy scorned. "I wouldn't have expected else from a half-blood like you, though."

"Thank you for enlightening me," she answered when she was able. "I wouldn't have expected else from a lifeless piece of shite like you, though."  
Daphne buried her face in her sleeve, presumably stifling a laugh. Astoria didn't hide it.  
Draco went beet red. "You filthy scum -"

"That's enough," Tracey interrupted.

"Ickle Tracey, my little mud-loving co-Prefect -"

"I said that's enough and you better listen," She deadpanned and glared dangerously at him. Draco's grey eyes flashed with fierce anger but he wondrously kept quiet despite himself, probably thinking beforehand about the his glimming Prefect badge.  
Daphne nudged Misha and Tracey simultaneously.

"Where did you both get that confidence from?" She asked perplexed. Misha gave a shrug. "It suddenly came to me. How can he comment on my manners when his aren't _that_ impeccable either."

"No reason," Tracey answered shortly before gulping down her pumpkin juice.

"Salazar Slytherin probably rolled in his grave when you got Sorted into Slytherin." Astoria let out a guffaw and bit in her apple pie.

"I'll make amends with him after I die," Misha said airily. "You know, apologise for not having a superior complex bigger than my brain."

"She looks like a toad," Daphne suddenly remarked, her eyes widening more and more as seconds passed by.

"Slytherin was a he, Daphne. And he probably looked like a snake rather than a toad because else we'd have a that as a House mascot, and that would be just silly -" "Oh just shut up! I'm talking about her." She pointed to a female figure standing before the staff table, completely clothed in a hideous pink Misha loathed.

"Gross," she groaned pained. Misha had missed Dumbledore's speech and so hadn't really noticed the strange person interrupting him mid-sentence. All the teachers looked at her with a aghast expression, not entirely comprehending that she had the nerve to disturb the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore didn't mind at all; he sat down patiently and and looked at the toad-like woman as if he had been waiting all his life to hear what she had to say.

"What did I miss?" Misha whispered to Daphne.

"Dumbledore said she's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Umbridge," Daphne began, gesturing to the presumably new teacher. "Then everyone clapped. And now, well, she kind of interrupted him."

"Thank you very much for those welcoming words, professor Dumbledore," Umbridge said with a sugary voice which was too sweet to handle. Many students were amazed by the sound that came out of her throat and tried to hide their sniggers. She ignored them blatantly and coughed as if her vocal cords could tear by the slightest of roughness.

"It's so delighting to be on Hogwarts once more!" Smiling sweetily, she surreptitiously scanned the students' expressions in search of mock. "And to see those happy little faces!"

"My God," Daphne gasped in disbelief. Misha couldn't hold a chuckle after noticing the horror on her and others' faces rather than happiness. She then supported her chin with her free hand, the other one holding her still unfinished pie.

"I can't wait to know you all better and I am sure that we'll be best friends," Umbridge's second claim sounded, equipped with the needed girliness.  
Misha immediately tuned the following words out, having heard enough. "Does she want to bore us to death?" Tracey muttered under her breath.

"This is hazardous to my health," Daphne moaned loudly in response.

"I'll listen," Astoria quipped.  
Misha let her gaze wander through the Hall as Umbridge continued to deliver what was presumably the most boring speech ever. She usually paid attention to announcements and stuff, but somehow the words of her new Defense of Dark Arts professor ended up in her short-term memory.

"Has it ended yet?" She asked Daphne who was prodding her potato uninterested.

"My God, you'd think I'd listen when you don't?" She answered promptly. "She's done, I think."

Misha looked up in the face of Umbridge, watching her with fake interest.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of a vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this... historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be... prohibited!"

Like expected, Dumbledore applauded her politely and the teachers followed suit, if not so enthusiastically. A few students did the same, the rest however were surprised that the speech ended after what felt like a decade.  
"Thank you Professor Umbridge. That really was most illuminating." He went on announcing the locations of the Quidditch trainings.

"My God, did he just say most _illuminating_?" Daphne said while laughing. Misha glared at her scathingly. The repeating 'My God' was getting on her nerves.

"My God, would you stop that?"

"Whatever. I wonder, from which pond did they catch her?" Daphne giggled.

"Not a dull one, I suppose," Astoria replied, looking as distastefully at Umbridge's pink clothes as a junior aristocrat could muster.

"Well, this is something new," Misha said with slight concern. Her gaze lingered on the new addition of the Hogwarts staff. Nobody really seemed to welcome her whole-heartedly. Almost everyone on the staff table took her in with indifference. It was all so confusing.

* * *

"That was some piece of crap," Daphne commented flabbergasted as they exited the Great Hall. "I could've made up for the lost sleep if it wasn't for you Misha."

"It was hell boring," Misha remarked, agreeing with her.

"But it was hell important too. Basically, the Ministry's trying to control Hogwarts from within through her." Astoria's input sounded.

"Since when did the Ministry get interested in Hogwarts?" Misha answered cynically. "What should this mean?"

"It means a lot," Daphne said mysteriously. "And I have a great suspicion that it has something to do with that fellow over there." She nodded her head towards a group fifth-years, including Harry Potter and his friends.

"If it has to do with him, it has to do with You-Know-Who too." Misha concluded, tearing her gaze away from the Gryffindors. "But we have better things to do and think about than why Umbridge's here."

Astoria made an approving noise and gave her sister a pointed look. Daphne returned it icily. "Sure, whatever. Let's go to our dorms.

* * *

**Yeah well, that was the first chapter of the re-boot of An unusual Slytherin! Couldn't come up with another title, sorry.**

**Basically, Misha lives with her father but does know her mother. I made some changes to that. You'll discover in the story what they are. By the way, she's half Cornish. Her surname is Morwenna (which roughly means 'mermaid' in Cornish) so it's from her father's side. I'm still contemplating on whether making her mum Dutch as in the previous story or another ethnicity.**

**And Misha and Harry aren't going to meet that soon, it'll a little further in the story. **

**Don't worry, Misha, Daphne and Astoria aren't the Golden Trio of Slytherin or anything like that. They're not the closest friends either. **

**By the way, sorry it took three more days. My internet was so crappy, ugh! I made many changes to this chapter, you should've seen how it looked two days ago, absolutely trash haha! **


	2. The Musings of a Insomniac

**I don't own anything, J.K Rowling does.**

* * *

**Musings of an Insomniac**

* * *

It was roughly twelve in the night. An alarming darkness loomed outside, giving the tenants in the castle a vibe of safety between the closed doors and windows. The warmth of a typical September night still tangible, it was supposedly difficult to fall asleep quickly. But the rich food and the long journey had tired the students which made them a easy victim for sleep.

But to Harry it merely had served for another excuse to his continuing insomnia. His boredom had taken another turn, misusing his freedom of magic shamelessly.

_"Lumos." _

A beam of light broke through the dark atmosphere of the Gryffindor boys dormitory, the source being the tip of Harry's wand. He turned it around the room, inspecting every roommate of his. When he deemed them innocent, he muttered the counterspell and the room went quickly void of any brightness.

He had repeated this unproductive hobby for a good five minutes now, aimlessly brandishing his wand back and forth. His boredom, fed by his lack of sleep, had taken the better of him. The room was constantly alit by the tip of his wand that he seriously began wondering why his roommates hadn't awaken yet.

"_Goooow ahwaay fileflies_ ..." A slurred voice spoke out from one of the occupied beds parallel to Harry. He immediately stopped reciting and sub-consciously tucked his wand away in his bed sheets, even though nobody could notice it in the sudden darkness. After a while, he heard a slow and steady breathing emitting from the particular crib.

What an exciting answer to his wonder.

Normal people would be sleeping, which was no option for him at all. His head was a whirlwind of emotions with the same episodes recurring every minute, haunting and depriving him of his precious sleep. The tool to go through a full school week was excluded.

_Bags under eyes for the next week, check, _he sarcastically thought while rubbing his eyes wearily. He was as tired as hell. If he could just close his eyes for a minute and doze off, he would graciously grant anyone a life of servitude.

He absently rubbed over his chin, his brain registering a small case of stubble. Frowning, he nervously thought back of the rusty-looking razor between his garments in his trunk. It had been a new addition to his baggage this year, always surprising him whenever he chanced a look at it. Its purpose did not cease to make him nervous every time he stared at it.

Shaving was probably one of the few things he disliked about puberty.

His family had noticed the need of it before him though.

The birthday present the Dursleys had presented him with was a cheap razor, probably bought under the minimum price. Two things had completely baffled him at that moment: the fact that they had given him an actual _present_ and the fact that it had been a _razor_. His amazement had pressed him into almost asking what he was supposed to do with it, when his aunt answered it.

"Have you seen yourself ?" She had said with all the spite she could muster."The neighbors are already talking about your, _appearance," _Harry had nearly rolled his eyes at that, "what would they think if we didn't let you shave? That facial hair is just as stubborn as your damned hair."

"I need shaving?" Harry had said dumbly, his hand immediately rubbing the area where he reckoned his aunt had been talking about.

His aunt and uncle had looked mortified and extremely angry, as if he had committed a capital offense instead of merely stating something incredibly stupid.

He had been oblivious to his growing stubble while stressing over his friends' non-substantial letters and his increasing loneliness. How he hated that feeling of abandonment, especially from the only ones who provided him with the friendship and love he needed. It had stung deeply when his family had rubbed his misery in his face.

The first time shaving had been utterly painful. His uncle had laughed himself silly when Harry had retreated from the bathroom with cuts all over his face.

Running his index finger over the aforementioned wounds, he sighed. Would it worsen before getting even remotely better?

Glancing a look at his best friend's bedstead, he wondered if he suffered the same difficulties as him. Ron's face looked devoid of any facial hair or cuts. Either he was handy with the use of a razor or he hadn't gotten any stubble yet. _Come to think of it, does Ron even know the existence of a razor?_

And the others? Harry was ninety-nine percent sure Dean shaved, as his visage did look rough most of the time. He wasn't sure about Neville and Seamus though.

At the thought of the latter, his expression grew darker.

The mere name of his Irish roommate made his usually neutral facial expression contort into a more hostile one. A pretty reactive mixture of guilt and anger bubbled up inside him, leaving a bland feeling inside. He had never expected that so much people would be against him, even one of his own. The slanderous articles of the Daily Prophet had a greater influence than he initially had thought.

Wriggling in his bed covers, he made again a unsuccessful attempt at sleep. It seemed fate sided against him too, just like countless others.

Balling his hands into fists, he forcefully closed his eyelids. A sigh escaped his mouth as he slowly drifted off, the weariness of the day and his thoughts finally taking its toll on the fifteen-year-old.

* * *

He woke up with a shock, bathing in scentless sweat. After he had dozed off, his mind had been plagued once again with frightening nightmares even adults had the luck to not experience.

Luckily for him, it was morning and guessing from the intensity of the light, somewhere between eight and nine. He frankly wondered what exact time it was, chancing a glance at his wooden clock at his nightstand which he immediately regretted.

All the blood drained from his face when he realised he had missed his first lesson, and had overslept roughly an hour. Gulping visibly, he stared at the still occupied bed of Ron.

Seemed like he wasn't alone.

He got up hurriedly, running to his best friend's bed. With nervous shakes, he attempted to wake his best friend up with the necessary force. The ginger woke up sluggishly, opening one eye before the other.

"Whaaaaat's wrong? Why you wake me up?" He mumbled in a slurred English, which clearly showed traces of sleepiness. Harry rolled his eyes and roughly pulled Ron up by his elbow, forcing him to sit up straight.

"We've missed our first class!" He managed to let out. "Be grateful I woke you. Now we got to get the hell out of here before they pay us with detention!"

Ron's face lost his calm too, paling slightly. He gave him a meek nod, swiftly putting his socks on and then pulling his shirt over his head at the same speed. "Damn, first day and we're late," Ron muttered under his breath, jumping in his trousers.

Harry adjusted his tie. "Seems like luck's not on our side today. Let's go, we've got McGonagall and she's usually worser than Snape on Monday mornings.

* * *

"Finally cared to show up, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

McGonagall's voice boomed through the classroom, leaving a momentarily baffled Ron and Harry behind.

She walked to them, her back arched as she quickened her pace. Harry nervously adjusted his tie around his neck once again as the rest of the students looked on with interest.

"And as I've been informed, you both have not attended your first class in the morning."

"Professor McGonagall, we can explain it's-"

"None of my business. You have detention on Saturday and also ten points from Gryffindor." Her statement was reinforced through the shocked gasps of her Gryffindor students.

Harry scowled and Ron was absolutely seething but both kept quiet despite themselves. Abandoning their places in front of the door, they silently trudged to their respective seats. Hermione gave both a sympathetic look which was returned with a cold stare.

"Now we can continue," McGonagall sighed, giving the two troublemakers a fierce glance before repeating the content of the Transfiguration lesson for them, now with a softened expression.

"Our brains aren't always trustworthy, especially in fatal situations. We tend to panic, resort to the easiest spells, which might not be as succesful as we imagined. Some don't even do anything. But if you're more convenient with Transfiguration than Defense of the Dark Arts, there's a trick that could easily help you your way out of the situation. Using Transfiguration as a form of sabotage to easily squirm your way out of a possible fatal event is a breeze for the quick-witted and sly, but more difficult with the ones who panic fast in a smothery situation. This is the main topic which will be practiced throughout the half-term. Just before the holidays commence, you will have to take partition in a simulation which will last one day, where you aren't permitted to use anything beside your wand and your knowledge of Transfiguration."

Upon seeing the worried expressions of her students, she continued with a less stern voice, "It's just an illusion, you will see. That's all you need to know. Let's begin the lesson."

Ron shot Harry a nervous smile, his mood not quite matching with his co-students. The latter merely returned the gesture half-heartedly, being on the same side as Ron. Working hard for some dumb simulation game didn't seem to reach his interest as was the case with the others. Neville seemed to share their feelings too.

The rest of the class were beaming with excitement, not ceasing their enthusiastic whispers between each other.

Harry sighed and support his chin with his hand; it was going to be long day.

* * *

**Sorry if it's a crap chapter from Harry's point of view, but it's just the beginning. It'll get better later on.**

**Yeah, I think I'd include Harry's puberty and stuff. He's a late one at facial hair though. Sorry if Harry's reaction to it is a bit unnatural. I'm a girl, that's probably why. But I just attempted to convey that between his adventures and emotional turmoil it was a little abnormal for him to think about his adolescence. Also, my apologies for the late chapter as my laptop was being a bitch once again and my school's started. I'll try to find a routine for uploading.**


End file.
